autumnal

Our days have been brilliantly autumnal. Sharp, icy cold mornings that quickly lead into brilliantly bright blue skied days. We run from job to job trying to get through as many as we can before the coming winter closes in on us. As we dig, stack, shovel, plow, seed, rake, fill and fork we feel the sun's warmth spread through our clothes and we slowly strip off our layers. There are little nests of hats and jumpers and shirts all over the place. These golden hours are short and we often find ourselves stopping mid shovel to breathe them in and to have yet another discussion about how lucky we are that all of our paths and decisions have led us here, to this work and this life and these days.  

thirteenth

From when we built our studio/second bedroom last spring, all the way through summer and into the beginning of autumn, I had this little Friday ritual. As soon as the girls were all at school I'd make myself a peppermint tea, look past the breakfast dishes and the piles of laundry and make my way to the green armchair in the corner of our room. And there I'd sit  with my laptop on my lap for the next few hours making my blog until it was done. 

Where I sat felt like it was such a big part of how I blogged that it never occurred to me that it would ever need to change. But then one Friday it just got too cold to sit in there. About a month ago, or maybe before, I walked in there, picked up my computer and my card-reader and came back into the lounge room. And ever since then I've done the same. 

Now I sit on one of the brown leather couches that I grew up sitting on, the fire roars beside me, the animals asleep nearby and although I'm comfy I feel much more available to the world, not as shut off, more distracted.

And the green armchair sits there draped in knitting as I dash past, sometimes covered in piles of clothes, sometimes a book, sometimes the pillows off the bed. Always inviting me to slow down and read a couple of pages, knit a few rows, find a way to heat the room and make it more comfortable to sit in.

fourteenth

Last week Indi spent the week camping and rock climbing with her class. She told me that on the last day, while they were packing up, one of their guides asked her what she would be doing for Mother's Day. Indi told her a bit about me and how my favourite things to do are knitting and burning shit. She guessed that we'd light a huge fire somewhere on our farm and then spend the day pulling branches onto it, knitting, eating and hanging out with family. Apparently her teacher gave her a strange look and said I sounded 'hilarious', but that's exactly what we did. And it was wonderful.

We ate babka, Kate shaped cookies, and chocolate covered pretzels and we drank Baileys, Turkish coffee and fizzy water. The girls drew pictures, Bren carved, I knitted and my parents spent the afternoon with us too. 

What more could this mother ask for?

A hand carved yarn bowl as a Mother's Day present, that's what! 

So beautiful. Made from a tree on our farm that started growing in an inconvenient place, carved on his foot powered pole lathe, with his hands, for me. What a gift. 

fifteenth

On Monday construction began on our new hot-house. Three massive wooden posts from an old bridge concreted into the ground, and lots of other marking and cutting and organising done. Since then some old windows have gone in but I'm afraid you'll have to wait until next week for a photo of them.

sixteenth

On Tuesday we spent time on our 'put the farm to sleep for winter' plan. Using the walk behind tractor, we mulched and then spaded in some of the summer vegetables. It's amazing to watch the corn stalks, the tomato vines, the capsicums, cabbages and broccoli, all mown down to the ground and then put back into the soil to break down. Just a few weeks ago we were visiting this patch a few times a day to harvest different things and now it'll be planted with a green manure crop and then left until spring. 

Thank you for feeding us garden, rest well.

seventeenth

A different view of the garden and the cubby house and the pole lathe.

On the drive into town a few days ago we were discussing the fact that this year we've been having a true autumn. Most seasons it feels like summer drifts on for a lot longer than it's meant to and then all of a sudden there's a cold snap and it's winter. Just like that. But this year we've had weeks of crisp sunny days, the colours of the trees have been spectacular and it's given us time to really finish one season and prepare for the next. To tick off a lot of our jobs. And to prepare to hibernate.

eighteenth

Yesterday was one of those days where I considered turning this into a photo an hour project instead. All day long as we fed the dogs and chooks, filled up a new garden bed with rocks and then soil and then planted it with garlic, as we planted green manure in the sock garden and then covered it, weeded the carrots, picked the beetroot, filled the trailer with wood and then stacked some more wood, I couldn't help but feel like this was a life that was filled with love and meaning and beauty. It was difficult to choose just one moment to photograph.

nineteenth

Which brings us to today.

The Guernsey wrap that slowly grows.

The book, Between A Wolf And A Dog, I am reading and LOVING! A beautifully written, insightful story about family, grief, relationships, betrayal, expectations and the fragility of life. I'm hoping for a little forgiveness by the end, but I'll have to wait and see.

This is one of those moody books that haunts me like a dream. It's there in the background as I go about my days and I'm sure the rain that is forecast to fall here on the weekend will only compound that fact. This is the type of book that I can't put down. Greedily snatching extra moments with it as I brush my teeth, eat my porridge and stay up way too late at night. I dread reaching the end of it because I'm enjoying it so much and then it'll be over, and also because of the knowledge that Georgia Blain, the author, died so young late last year making the book tragically final.


And that's my week, in pictures and words. It's been such a lovely week. I've felt clear and articulate, I've spent time with three precious friends, I've felt organised, I've loved and looked after and I've felt loved and looked after. It's been good.

I hope you my beautiful friend are traveling along well.
I hope you've got a good book to read, a great project to work on and something fun to look forward to.

I hope you have a happy weekend.

Lots of love,

Kate
xx